Tag: #coping
6 Word Short Story Compilation
People who are able to express themselves easily will never understand how liberating this feels. All it takes is 6 simple words sometimes. And as simple as that sounds it still doesn’t make expressing myself any easier. The topic was negativity…maybe tomorrow I can try being more positive. Giving myself some grace today…

I woke up sad and unhappy.
I tried to smile but cried.
I really hate it here today.
I threw all their toys away.
Praying the heartache and pain away.
I painted my entire day away.
All I hear; “Oh,it’s ok!”
Sick of just hearing, “I understand”.
The conversation is almost always abandoned.
I’m so sick of feeling empty.
Life is such a miserable place.
Why live when we can die?
Why love when we can hate?
How much more can I lose?
How much more can I take?
I have no living parents here.
I want to run far away.
Where the trees and sky meet.
I want water at my feet.
I want sun on my face.
It usually makes me feel okay.
I just want to be happy.
I just want some damn peace.
Hell no I am not OK!
Grief is such a muthafuckin beast.
Phobia
Never do I feel compelled to write when I’m happy, only when I’m sad, hurting or angry…
It’s rare that I just sit…like just literally sit and do nothing.
I did that today. For once, I honestly wanted to talk to someone…but I don’t want to be a bother…and I don’t want to be interrupted…and I don’t want to be criticized…and I don’t want to be dismissed…I felt like I had too many stipulations for a conversation so I opted to just sit…
One question came to mind…
Why are you so nice?
EveryFuckingOne
This is such a loaded question. I’m sure most people could spit a response out quicker than I could blink. Me, however by the time the question is fully formed, I’ve ruined the conversation a million times in my head. And the only suitable response is “I don’t know.” This is the one response I dislike for my children to give me. I always explain to the them that they experience an emotion based on a thought or a feeling. And if you are feeling a certain type of way there is an emotion to describe why you feel this way. I give them examples…I am sad because you yelled. I am angry because I want to play. I am hurt because I fell down. I am happy because I have ice cream.
It was time to re-evaluate myself, my life and the circumstances that I’ve created…and so many thoughts flood my mind…dammit, didn’t we do this in Miami? UGHHHHHHHH

It takes nothing to be kind right…shiiiiiiiit…it also takes thick skin, therapy, tequila, shrooms, weed and a few close friends.
Truth be told, I am nice to people mostly because I was raised to treat others how I want to be treated and not in response to how they treat me. This is a positive and negative personality trait to have. But just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I trust you 100%. I will give you enough rope to either hang yourself or show me that you’re loyal. Tests are not games, but merely a way of gauging how to handle a person. Given the damage on the exterior of my heart, I think I am allowed to perform such tests. And I wouldn’t oblige if someone tested me…

Opening up your heart to someone is the epitome of vulnerability. I haven’t done it a lot in life. But for every time that I have, I’ve lost that person. The most recent episode of life has put me in such a place that I am truly afraid of letting my guard down. I think I owe it to myself to be a little guarded to avoid getting into any more situations that will leave me “hurt”.
I can honestly say that I am afraid of getting hurt again. I don’t know that I will recover…
Again

Today I’m doing something I never thought I’d have to do. And normally I’d let this go…I wouldn’t trip but it is affecting my tomorrow…and I had to sit and think about my next steps.
I’m an avid procrastinator and I put off what I can do right now to do later merely out of convenience or just refusal to complete the task.
Am I going to continue to let this affect my life negatively? What can I do to change the situation? What will bring me peace? I ask myself all these questions sitting in silence.
This entire situation is unreal. It sounds like a fucked up Lifetime movie up when it’s spoken aloud. But it is my life currently. And the saying is when you can’t control a situation, control your attitude towards it and/or how you respond to it.
Well friends, I’m tired. I know, I know. I say it a lot. But with this I think anyone who knows the situation can agree I’m tired. I’ve been through the most. I’ve dealt with the most. I’ve turned every cheek. I’ve tried to remain cordial and respectful and now that my patience has worn out and my peace has been disrupted, I have to do something different.
Even though I’ve been 100% transparent and honest, we approached the same impasse that we were at before over a year ago. Nothing has changed. Until this week. I changed…
Until I close this chapter, it’s impossible for me to start another no matter how much I think I can. Taking things to a legal level is not how I normally operate but drastic times calls for drastic measures. I don’t communicate threats because I know first hand how they can come back to bite you in your ass. But I’m just ready to start fresh somewhere else with the one I love.
Taking this route is my way of no longer “talking” about what I’m going to do or what I want to happen. Instead I have to take the necessary steps to get me where I want to be.
Breaking generational curses…I’m all for that. I don’t think I was placed here to be like follow anyone else. It’s time I move mountains to get to my peace…and hope that my peace is also moving mountains to meet me halfway.
Strutting in this courthouse sporting nothing but honesty, a little fatigue and a smile on my face. I can’t allow this situation to dull my sparkle or deter me from my dreams. We have a plan…and I’m down to stick to it…
For once I didn’t put off today what I could do tomorrow for one more person who doesn’t give a shit about me. I choose me today…I choose my happiness…I choose my peace…I choose healthy and loving parenting…I choose not being the norm…I choose my Baby Love…
Whatever it takes is my mindset now…I need my peace back…
Oceanside Olivia
The kids haven’t been to the beach nearly as much as I have been this year. A lot has happened (and keeps happening) that pushes me to the beach often just to clear my head.
As I sat here, I watched people come and go. Couples playing volleyball. Owners playing fetch with their dogs. Kids chasing each other into the ocean. Kids building sand castles. Young adults recording tik tok videos and dancing to music. And there was me. The chick organizing her email inbox on her laptop in a cabaña. LOL. (Let’s hope I remember how to fold this crazy thing up smh.)
My kids filled my unused picnic basket with beach toys. What’s their plan? They want to build a city and then record Godzilla destroying it. Then they want to post it on YouTube to see how many likes it gets. Their goal is to be YouTube sensations…that’s so cute. Already striving to be great. I encourage so you know, I put my laptop down to produce this epic Godzilla episode for YouTube lol.
The older lady next to me came over to chat. Oddly enough, we had the same cabaña…and would you know, she wanted to know if I knew how to fold mine up LOL. Ma’am, I am going to struggle but I have YouTube handy if I get stuck. We talk a little more about where we are visiting from, her dog and the makeshift shade chair she created. She was pretty nice. It never fails though that if I come to the beach no matter how “alone” I try to stay, someone breaks my barrier and introduces themselves and let me in on a little secret that they have or a problem they’ve recently encountered. Today, the lady was lonely. It was just her and her dog. She reminded me of myself, so i respectfully (saved my draft of course) closed my laptop to converse with her. She had a nice aura about her so I felt ok.
I raced my son to the water. My daughter, who swims like a fish, is terrified of the ocean water. She splashed me with water without warning and then realized her Mother is truly the biggest kid. She ran back to the cabaña. Then my son and I raced back. I don’t know why these kids think their Mother is inactive lol. Whenever I run they act so surprised. Hello kids, once upon a time your Mother was in the US Army and she had to run. And she played sports…softball, cheerleading, thought I could play football…I’m super fast…ok not super fast but I can hang with the best of them when my asthma allows lol.
We pack up to head home. I see Fur Son on the camera sad and whining. He wants me to cook him chicken and rice and let him roll around pooting in my bedroom.
Outside of paying to having the littlest ones’ screen replaced on his iPhone, we’ve had a really decent day. I got some much needed sun and my beach fix. And the kids got their road trip wish and beach day as promised. This was a reminder that all of my “bad mornings” don’t have to result in a totally bad day. Now we have to decide on dinner…and then get home to Fur Son. Had I known dogs were allowed, I would have brought him on his first beach trip. Getting lost in the ocean is a whole different type of scary so I don’t know if I’m ready for that so soon after his stint in the pen…
Until next time, I’m going to keep being weird in hopes that more people join me lol. Just kidding. I’m a cool ass chick. ✌🏾
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Past Life
Yesterday I took a break. Or I attempted to do so. I left my both phones and my laptop on the nightstand the entire day. I should have worked out but I really have just been in a real lazy type of mood. And I can tell physically because the weight I once lost, is creeping back up on me. I have to do better.
I go and take a stab at trying to organize this walk in closet again. I start with the top shelves this time. I realize I have way too many handbags and totes. This is ridiculous. I grab a trash bag to throw this shit away. Inside of one of the huge bags I find my journals from waaaaaaaaaaayyyy back when. Like high school up until right before I got married. I have narrated my life in journal form since I was about 8 or 9 years old. Then it was to cope with the sea of domestic violence that surrounded me and to give an only child an outlet to express herself. I remember my aunt bought my first diary. A little white patent leather journal with a lock. The leather where the lock use to reside was gone. I remember the day my Mom cut that bitch off to read my diary. She was angry as hell. My thoughts, my diary. Not in her house. That pushed me to write even more. From that point forward, I had to hide my then diary just like the kids do in movies (under my bed, in between books on my bookshelf, in my closet, etc.) I realized that I stopped writing when I got married. And I honestly never go back and read what I write. Until today…
I stared at all the journals debating whether or not to open one just to revisit the past. This could be a good thing or it could trigger a whole lot of bullshit. I sat in my closet floor contemplating what to do. One I remember and I know it’s the last journal I wrote in. I grab it. It was only from about 17 years ago. Here goes nothing…
I do some stupid shit sometimes…nothing compares to my past life though lol. I did a multitude of stupid things and dealt with a lot of stupid people. Life was different then. I think I sat here laughing, singing, crying and questioning myself for about 2 hours. The top shelf of the closet was empty but nothing was organized. Stick a pin in this task, it’s done for the day. There was so much emotion in things that I wrote and then I began to see a pattern.
And maybe that was the purpose of me reading these entries. To see that I create my own unhappiness by the situations I put myself in. And even at 37 I hadn’t quite learned my lesson in this area of my life. Am I going to make a change or keep putting myself through unnecessary pain?
I reach the end of this journal and I find a poem that I wrote.
"True Love"
Together forever we shall stay,
Letting our love grow stronger, day by day.
Wishes made upon the stars in the sky,
Knowing this love will never die.
Hopes and dreams this love is for real,
Knowing what's going on, knowing how we feel.
Showing our love and showing we care,
No longer playing a silly game of truth or dare.
Being here for one another,
And showing love for only each other.
I'm going to be only your babygirl,
And this is because you have changed my world.
You have put trust in me like no one else will,
You loved me then and you love me still.
I believe in this world everyone has a soulmate,
I also believe we met not only through fate...
But we met because we are meant to be,
And that's what I'm trying to make you see.
You and I must work through this relationship together,
And when we go through the worst, we will make it better.
So from here on out it's just me and you,
And for that I love only you.
The poem didn’t even fit my life then. And I’m not sure who I was addressing. There’s no date and it’s literally at the end of the journal. It’s random. I read it over and over again. In faint ink next to the poem I see “Always Alone”.
I’ve always tried filling this void no matter the cost just because of the pain it causes. And in return, I always end up hurt. I sat and cried to no end. I owe it to myself to stop. I realize in this moment no one can take this pain away or fill this hole I have in my heart. Nobody but me. I have pain, disappointment and abandonment piled on top of anger. This just dusted off a bunch of shit I buried.
It’s time I sit and really deal with it…vacation request entered, calendar blocked, sitter secured, Airbnb booked, suitcase packed, car gassed up. I’m going off grid for a little bit…before I make a decision that I may regret, I need to sit with myself and deal with my entire past life and its issues that is proving to affect my current life.
So stay tuned…
Mondayest of Mondays.
I wanted nothing more today than to lay in my bed with my covers pulled up to my ears and just be. I love my job but I just hate Monday’s. I mean we are just raped of a weekend and thrown into a workday in the blink of an eye. But it’s Monday, I have to work, kids have to eat and be cared for, dog has to be walked, fed and fussed at, trash has to go to the curb…I think I had it all covered. I’m working on being productive. So far it’s proving to be a struggle, but it’s ok. I’ll keep trying.
I have a really bad hankering for a salad…so do you know what my ass did??? Tell em what you did girl! I drove an hour and 18 minutes to a salad shop. I ordered the salad, ate most of it in the parking lot and then drove back home…
My life is full of these real haphazard ass trips and moments as of late…
I’m sure it has a lot to do with my newfound “quitting” spirit. I quit eating meat. I quit grief therapy. I quit people. I quit trying. I did make it throught the 12 weeks of reflection in grief counseling. But I’m beginning to think somehow the reset button was pressed. Gently placing me somewhere in between Self-Care and Compulsive & Addictive Behavior… Queue Deborah Cox, Nobody’s Suppose To Be Here. How did I get here???
I just want to lay in my bed, eat chips and shop on Amazon…sounds depressing I know but it is quite peaceful. Just me, the rustling of the bag, the crunch of the chips between my teeth and the tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk of my fingers on my laptop keyboard…
I am happy that the day is over. And on that note, I am going to fulfill part of my dream by dragging my body out of the bed and into the kitchen to get a bag of the chips of the quarter….
Lay’s…you can’t eat just one…

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